


who are we to define tragedy, after all?

by Suchagayhumanbeing



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Forced Vomiting, Graphic suicidal thoughts, Guilt, Hallucinations, Hurt Spencer Reid, Immense Guilt, Sad Spencer Reid, Spoilers for Episode: s08e12 Zugzwang, Vomiting tw, brief mentions of god, graphic descriptions of self harm, self harm tw, self hatred, suicidal thoughts tw, takes place after season 8 episode 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchagayhumanbeing/pseuds/Suchagayhumanbeing
Summary: maeve donovan is dead. and it’s all his fault. spencer doesn’t deserve to be alive.
Relationships: Jason Gideon & Spencer Reid
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. redemption

**Author's Note:**

> “dear forgiveness, i saved a plate for you. quit milling around the yard and come inside.” -richard siken

Spencer Reid can’t sleep. 

Well, can’t is the wrong word. He  _ can _ . His body begs him for sleep. His bones ache with exhaustion, each nerve, each cell trying to drag him down, down, down into the supposed release of unconsciousness. 

Spencer Reid  _ won’t _ sleep.

Everything feels  _ wrong _ .

He shouldn’t be alive. 

* * *

Here’s how it goes: Spencer Reid is brimming with guilt. It’s consuming him, it’s igniting his nerves, it’s setting his body alight. It’s killing him. He’s apologizing, stumbling over the overused words, tears sliding desperately down his cheeks, seeking forgiveness. It’s not enough. 

Spencer Reid has a knife in his hand. 

He thinks about jamming it into his neck, finally laying to rest, watching his blood slip between the kitchen tile.

_ It’s what I deserve _ , he thinks. 

Spencer won’t admit this to anyone, much less himself but here’s a secret: He almost does it. He’s so filled with guilt and the need to protect those closest to him that he almost ends his life, almost becomes the last victim of the infamous Dr. Reid. 

He slashes his wrist instead. 

A cut a few inches from his radial artery blinks up at him, crying droplets of red.

He does it again, again, again and watches the blood,  _ his _ blood, swirl down the sink drain. 

“It should’ve been me” He didn’t deserve to be unharmed. 

This wasn’t fair, he should be dead, this blood isn’t  _ enough _ , it didn’t compare to the growing pool of blood spilling from Maeve, he needs to bleed more _ ,  _ more,  _ infinitely _ more because that is the price for his redemption. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer Reid sobs between the unfair beats of his heart. 

“Please forgive me,” He whispers in between drops of his sinful blood. 

There was no one to answer him. 

He had driven away anyone alive who could forgive him. 

* * *

“I'm sorry,” Spencer tells the wall, tells the floor, tells the broken spines of victims who he couldn’t save in time.

“Forgive me,” he tells the books, tells the broken plates, tells the sobbing families of who he couldn’t shield from the corruption of life.

Guilt consumes him, forces overused apologies from his mouth like a prayer, a mantra, and he sobs them, screams them, whispers and speaks them, and for a second, he wishes he were religious so he could ask for mercy from god, so he could blindly believe in forgiveness. 

(Here’s what he refuses to think: Spencer wishes he believed so he could blame Him. For everything.) 

“I'm so sorry,” he tells the walls again, the floor again, the piling victims of Spencer Reid again.

“Please forgive me,” he tells the plates again, the books again, the bodies dropping because of his ignorance again.

Spencer Reid won’t sleep because he’s afraid. 

That’s the truth he refuses to admit.

He’s afraid if he closes his eyes, the god he doesn’t believe in will finally decide he’s not worthy enough to open them again.

* * *

Spencer is on his knees. 

“Please forgive me.” he is whispering to no one, to everyone, to Maeve, to god, to anyone who will listen and forgive him.

His fingernails dig into the calloused skin of his clasped hands, ripping into layer after layer of skin.

“Please.” Reid whimpers, as blood runs over his pale hands, like sin over his once-pure soul. “please.”

Drip, drip, goes the blood and tears of a sinner. 

Drip, drip, goes the blood and tears of a killer, a monster, a failure.

“I'm sorry,” Spencer sobs, his thin frame shaking as his mind berates him. 

(Failure) it laughs. (you don’t deserve forgiveness)

“I know, I know,” Reid whispers, rocking back and forth on his knees, staining his worn slacks with blood.

(you’re a killer. everyone around you ends up dead. wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you just-)

“Spencer.”

Reid straightens at the familiar voice. 

(No.)

Shaking, he stands, fear keeping his eyes straight, burning a hole in the scattered books on the floor.

(he can’t be here.)

“Turn around.”

(isn’t this what you wanted? an answer?)

He shook his head. “you can’t be here.”

“Turn around, spencer.”

“No, Gideon.”

* * *

Jason Gideon’s hand came down on Reid’s shoulder, and he tried to not lean into the comforting touch. This wasn’t real. 

* * *

Jason Gideon wasn’t here. He wouldn’t be. He was in a cabin in the woods, most likely nowhere in particular. He was living far away from Spencer Reid or the BAU team. He didn’t know his mentee (his son) was begging for forgiveness amidst dozens of broken books. He didn’t know his co-worker (his son) had just gotten the love of his life killed (and he certainly didn’t know it was Spencer’s fault). He didn’t know his teammate (his son) was hallucinating him, desperate for his father. 

“You’re not real,” Reid mumbles, hugging his knees. 

“I know.” Gideon responds. “Can’t we pretend?”

Spencer Reid stands, and envelops his teammate, his mentor, his superior, his  _ father _ in a hug. 

“I’m tired, Gideon.” Reid whispered, barely holding himself up as Gideon’s warm arms encased him. “I’m so tired.”

“I know,” Gideon answered, tightening his hold on Spencer. “I know.”

Reid breathed in, his nose buried in Jason’s familiar clothes, and for the first time since Maeve died, he didn’t have to fight for another breath. It came easily, happily, like his body wanted it. His heart swelled. He was finally home. 

_ Dad. _


	2. forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “tell me about your despair and i will tell you mine. meanwhile the world goes on.” -mary oliver

Do you believe in soulmates?”

Spencer Reid is alone in his apartment. Old books are strewn on the floor, the couch, every corner of his apartment in which he’d thrown them while begging to be forgiven. Blood dries in the sliver of sunlight struggling to break through the blackout curtains, pools filled with broken promises and tears. 

“Yes.” Reid’s hallucination says, posing as Jason Gideon. He is sitting on Spencer’s vintage couch, with his teammate’s (his son’s) head in his lap. His old, wrinkled fingers run through Reid’s unwashed hair, gently untangling knots. “Once.”

“I didn’t,” Spencer whispers, his voice dripping with exhaustion. “Not until I met her. With Maeve, it was just so  _ easy _ , you know?”

“Yeah,” Gideon answers with a soft voice. His brown eyes are hazy with past memories. “I know.”

A beat of guilty silence, then:

“I loved her. I loved her so much it  _ hurt _ . She carved a space inside my heart and when she died, I-” Spencer’s voice wavers. “She left a void inside me and all that fills it now is just  _ so much _ guilt. I don’t know if I can live with it.” A pause. “Will I ever be okay again?”

“Oh, Spencer.” Gideon breaths, his voice full of sympathy and understanding “Of course you will. In time.”

“Everyone keeps saying that. ‘Give it time’ ‘you’ll be okay, in time.’ How much time, Gideon? How much time do I have to live through before remembering her doesn’t make me break down? How much time do I have to live with the memory of a bullet in her skull? How long do I have to live with this overwhelming  _ guilt?” _

“I don’t know, kid.” Gideon speaks softly, loss weighing heavily on his words. “I truly don’t know.”

38.4 seconds of silence. 

Then:

“I told her I didn’t love her.”

“Who?”

“Maeve. I thought...I just thought if I could convince Diane to let her go, then I’d-“

“You did what you thought was necessary. That’s all that matters.”

Spencer sits up, wiping his face as tears spill from his eyes. “I just need her to forgive me, Gideon. I need  _ someone _ to forgive me, because I don’t know if I can survive otherwise.”

“I forgive you, Spencer.”

Reid stops. “No.” he says sharply. “You’re not allowed to.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what you wanted?” Gideon asks, his brows furrowing. 

“I just-” Spencer starts, and pauses, trying to find the words. “You- I... _ god _ , Gideon! You’re not real! You’re just an extension of my brain, of  _ me! _ I’m not allowed to forgive myself.” 

Reid stands up and starts pacing, hands twitching with frustration. Gideon didn’t understand, he didn’t understand, he didn’t  _ get it! _ It was all Reid’s fault. 

“Why can’t you forgive yourself, Spencer?” He asks, his voice calm, and Reid recognizes it, how could he not? It was the voice he used to diffuse situations with mentally ill ubsubs. 

“Don’t” He snaps, his legs a blur as restless energy comes in bursts. “Don’t you dare use that voice with me.”

“Why can’t you forgive yourself?” Gideon repeats, with no indication he’d heard Reid. 

“I got her killed!” Spencer burst out, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. “I might as well have shot her in the head myself! It was my fault! All because I loved her, because I was selfish. I can’t forgive myself. I won’t.” Spencer stops pacing and looks at his superior (His father). “You’re not Gideon. You don’t understand.”

“How could I not understand? I’m you.”

Spencer snorts. “You’re just the side of my brain that wants the pain to stop. It doesn’t matter you’re appearing to me as my mentor.” He leaned down to look the hallucination in the eyes. “I hate you.”

The hallucination says nothing. 

And when Spencer blinks next, he is gone. 

* * *

Spencer is vomiting. 

He’s leaned over his toilet, the coffee and minimal food he’d forced down flying from his mouth. 

He’s looking down at his vomit, but he can only see blood, pure blood,  _ Maeve’s _ blood, and guilt, guilt, guilt. 

He throws up again, but this time he’s stuffing his own fingers down his throat, forcing acidic bile from his stomach, and it  _ hurts _ , it’s  _ burning _ him, but it's what he deserves. Only through pain will he find his redemption. 

“You don’t deserve this.” Gideon’s voice breaks through his guilt-ridden thoughts, but Spencer ignores him. He doesn’t want hallucinations anymore. It’s not enough. (it never could’ve been enough). 

He just wants to throw up and bleed and purge himself of sin until he’s finally worthy enough to finally live. 

(he doesn’t feel alive anymore. He’s a slave to the idea of redemption, purity, forgiveness. He wakes up and dies over and over again because that’s what he deserves, that’s his punishment for killing her. For loving her.)

“Stop, Spencer.”

(shut up.)

“It wasn’t your fault.”

(shut. up.)

“She wouldn’t want this.”

(Shut up!)

“You have to forgive yourself.”

“Shut up!” he shouts, spinning to punch Gideon, and  _ god,  _ it feels wrong to even think but Reid is so overcome with rage, because he doesn’t  _ know _ . He’s just a hallucination projected by a soft side of his brain, begging for the pain to stop. It doesn’t understand that the only way to redeem himself is to  _ hurt _ and bleed and vomit and die again and again until someone forgives him. 

Gideon is gone by the time Spencer’s fist is raised. 

* * *

Spencer has a knife in his hand again before she shows up. 

He ponders, for the 10th time today, (he counted), sliding the blade into his heart and ending everyone’s worry, their torment, their fear of dying because of Reid’s ignorance. 

(cut it out and give it to someone else. Give it to someone who deserves to love, who doesn’t destroy those around them, give it to someone, anyone, who’s not you because you’re the worst sinner of them all. Cut your heart out before you corrupt it with the blood on your hands.)

He slices his wrist again, watching as drops of blood fall from his pale skin. It is blood of a killer, blood of a sinner, blood of a son who failed everyone who loves him. 

Another gash. He bleeds the blood of a monster, blood of a failure, blood of a brother who doesn’t deserve to live. 

He hovers the knife over his radial artery, and contemplates how deep he would have to cut to bleed out. 

(do it. You won’t suffer. You’ll finally rest without those hell-given nightmares, you’ll finally free your friends who secretly live in fear that they’ll be killed because of you. It’s okay. Do it. Free them.) 

“You’re incredibly selfish, Doctor, did you know?”

Reid froze. 

(No.)

(That’s impossible.)

(she’s not here.)

(how could she be? You killed her.)

“Maeve?”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Spencer is sobbing, and he’s begging for Maeve to forgive him,  _ please _ , and even though he knows she isn’t real, a vile hallucination from his guilty conscience, he doesn’t care. 

He is on his knees in front of the god, the only one he prays to, and he’s pleading to her. 

“Please forgive me,” He’s crying, whimpering, whispering. “I’ll do anything.”

Maeve kneels to meet Reid’s eyes, lifting his chin with a cold finger. Her own eyes are cold, emotionless and they pierce Spencer with fierceness. She grabs the dangling knife from his hand, and puts it to his injured wrist. 

He barely feels the first cut. 

Their eye contact held through the second, third, fourth, and finally on the twelfth cut, Spencer whimpers “Please stop.”

“No.” Maeve says, continuing onto the thirteenth cut, fourteenth, fifteenth. “This is what you wanted. This is the path to the redemption you don’t deserve.”

She takes a cruel hand and presses it onto the knife, deeper, deeper, forever deeper into his arm and perhaps her hand isn’t cruel after all because this is how he is forgiven; this is how  _ she  _ forgives him. 

“Spencer.”

Reid doesn’t turn around. “Go away, Gideon.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Kid, please.”

Reid sighs, and turns to face him. “I said go away.”

Gideon is standing across from him, eyes filled with sympathy (it repulses Reid. He doesn’t need sympathy.). 

“She isn’t real, kid.”

“I know she isn’t real.” Spencer replies, shooting Gideon a look of annoyance. 

“Then why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because, Gideon. I need her to forgive me. This is the only way.” Spencer tightens his grip on the knife, and frowns when he realizes Maeve had disappeared. 

“This isn’t what she would want, kid.” 

“You don’t know what she would want.” 

“Yes, I do. You know why? Because I’m  _ you _ . Don’t you remember? You’re the one who talked with her for six months, the one who fell in love with her without ever seeing her face. You’re the one she loved the most. You knew her. You know she wouldn’t want this.”

“I-,” Spencer whispers, and Gideon was right. He knew she would hate this. “I don’t know how to live without it. I’m scared to.”

“I know. But there will come a time when you won’t need that guilt anymore, when you won’t need forgiveness. There will come a time when that void she left will be filled with memories of the letters you wrote and the words you exchanged.” Gideon reassures, setting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “It’ll take a while, but it will come.”

“How do I survive?” He asked, his voice breaking. 

“One day at a time, Spencer. Just one day at a time until it doesn’t hurt anymore.” Gideon answers, and sits next to him, his back to the door. 

“Will you stay with me?” He asks, leaning his head against Gideon’s shoulder, his unkempt hair falling into his face

“Of course, kid.” the older man replies. 

With a hum of thanks, he relaxed. 

Spencer Reid could finally sleep. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for reading! comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! my tumblr is @poison-dyke if you want to say hi :) have a great day!! ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! comment if you like, feedback is greatly appreciated. chapter 2 coming soon! if you want to say hello, my tumblr is @poison-dyke


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